Tim Severin - Corsair

Hector grew more and more frustrated. ‘We can’t go on like this,’ he confessed to Ibrahim on the fourth day of their ordeal. The young man, who normally rode beside his grandfather in advance, had dropped back to join the rear guard. ‘The caravan is being bled to death.’

Ibrahim shook his head. ‘My grandfather tells me that it is impossible to shake off the Labdessah once they have attached themselves to a coffle. They are like the parasites that feed on the camels. Once they fasten on to their victim they do not let go.’

‘Then I suggest we give the Labdessah a nasty surprise.’

Ibrahim cocked his head on one side as he looked at Hector with sudden interest. ‘You have a plan?’

‘The Tooarick don’t yet know that we have good muskets,’ Hector said.

Ibrahim thought for a moment before replying. ‘Not unless they witnessed you shooting the ostriches. Otherwise you have not yet used your guns in their presence. The Labdessah have always attacked in the dark, and they are armed with spears or knives.’

‘Then I propose we deal with them as we dealt with the ostriches. When we come to a suitable place – a dip between the sand dunes where we are out of sight of the pursuit – Dan, Jacques, Karp and I will get down off our camels and prepare an ambush. We will scrape out shallow holes where we can lie in wait with our muskets. You ride on, taking our camels with you, and rejoin the coffle. With luck the Labdessah will blunder straight into the trap, and we will give them a bloody nose. Later you can come back and collect us.’

Ibrahim’s face lit up. ‘We could set the ambush right now, over the next sand ridge. I’ll tell my grandfather about it later. But please be careful. The thieves have the eyes of falcons and would immediately notice anything unusual. We must work quickly.’

The next hollow between the dunes proved an ideal site for the ambush. There was a patch of soft level sand on which grew a few withered bushes, no more than two feet high. Here Hector and his companions slid down from their camels and hastily scraped out shallow trenches for themselves. Placing their muskets before them, they lay down, and Ibrahim quickly threw sand over them to cover them. Then he remounted and led the camels off in the direction of the marching caravan. ‘I’ll be back before nightfall,’ he called. ‘In the name of Allah, shoot straight!’

Hector lay on his belly, feeling the heat of the sand spreading up through his thin cotton garments. To his right, about twenty paces away, Karp was similarly buried. Away to his left lay Bourdon and Dan. Each man had picked a location where a low leafless bush gave additional cover but did not interfere with his sight line. They lay in a shallow arc, facing the way they had come. Before them the dune sloped upward quite steeply, then came to a crest some fifty yards away. That was were they expected the Labdessah to show.

Gently Hector checked that the lock of his musket was in working order. Unwinding the end of his head cloth, he draped it loosely around the delicate mechanism to protect it from the sand. Then he lowered his face down to the sand, blew gently to clear a few loose grains from his nose and mouth, and closed his eyes. He settled down to wait.

After some time he became aware of a tickling sensation on his forehead. A small creature was burrowing up through the sand towards his face. He raised his head slightly to ease the pressure on the sand and give the creature an easier passage. The tickling became more of a scratching. He lifted his head higher still, allowing an inch or so of free space, and felt a slight rasping sensation just below his hairline. The creature was almost clear. He opened his eyes to see what it was. Less than an inch away stood a scorpion as long as his middle finger, and as fat. The insect must have detected the flicker of his eyelid, for suddenly it stopped and raised its sting, curling its body ready to strike. Hector held his breath. The green sea-pale transparency of the scorpion’s shiny body was the colour of the tiny crabs which had crawled across the rock pools when he was a boy. Its armoured body was like a miniature lobster, only curled in reverse. He was almost cross-eyed with the strain of keeping the deadly creature in focus, yet holding completely still. The muscles of his neck complained as he arched his head even farther backwards. Ibrahim had warned them of the Saharan scorpion. The sting would kill a dog within six or seven minutes. A man would die in as many hours, from convulsions.

For what seemed like an age the black tip of the venom sting wavered in his face. Then the scorpion relaxed. The body slowly uncurled, and the insect crawled off on its crooked legs.

The next time he raised his head, Hector was shocked to see two camel riders had already started down the slope of the sand dune before him. They were Labdessah. Both men were swathed in loose blue garments, and their heads and faces were wrapped in folds of black cloth leaving only a narrow slit for their eyes. They were halfway down the slope, the feet of their camels plunging into the soft sand, when another half-dozen Tooarick appeared on the skyline behind them. Hector reached forward gently. His arm was numb where he had been lying on it, and he could feel a tingling as the blood began to flow again. Very gently he peeled aside the cloth protecting the musket lock. He took slow deep breaths. His eyes never left the two Labdessah as they rode closer.

A single low bush stood in isolation some thirty paces in front of him. It had been agreed with the others that this bush would mark the point where they would spring their ambush. The two cameleers were only a few paces away from it now. He raised his musket and took aim at the leading rider. The target came level with the bush, and he fired even as he heard the sound of Bourdon’s musket to his left, and then a shot from Dan. Through the small cloud of black smoke Hector saw the lead rider crash from his saddle, hitting the ground so heavily that Hector knew he must be dead. The second man lurched sideways. He managed to stay on his camel, which gave a great swerve and began a panic-stricken run across the face of the sand dune. Farther up the dune were sudden shouts of dismay and alarm. The six Labdessah wrenched their camels around, and applied their goads as they forced their beasts into an urgent retreat. Within moments they had fled over the crest of the dune, closely followed by their wounded colleague and the runaway camel of his dead companion.

Bourdon gave a whoop of triumph. ‘That should have stopped them in their tracks,’ he exulted as he sprang up from his hiding place, and began to reload his musket. Hector and Dan waited for Karp to join them before they approached the downed Labdessah. The man had been killed outright. He lay on his back, one leg bent under him, an arm flung out.

‘Did you get a good look at the ones who got away?’ Hector asked Dan.

‘Yes,’ the Miskito replied. ‘I’d say they learned their lesson. Only two of them were carrying muskets, and both weapons were obsolete and near useless. They know now that we can bite back.’

‘Let’s hope they leave the caravan alone in future,’ Bourdon intervened. He was still jubilant. ‘Maybe those bastard merchants in the coffle will treat us with a little more respect now they know what we can do.’

‘We should not wait down here,’ said Hector. ‘If the Labdessah decide to come back, we’re dangerously exposed. We’d better climb back to the crest of the dune. From there we can keep a lookout, and wait for Ibrahim.’

Feet sinking deep in the loose sand, they scrambled to the top of the dune. There was no shade anywhere, and the sun beat down on them out of a clear sky as they sat and waited for Ibrahim to bring their camels. The hours passed, and they became more and more thirsty. From time to time Jacques, the most impatient, stood up and scanned the horizon. There was no sign of the Labdessah, nor of Ibrahim. There was not a living creature in view except the distant black speck of a circling bird of prey. Finally, as the sun began to set, the Frenchman voiced what all of them had been thinking. ‘What do you think is delaying Ibrahim? He should have been here long before now. The coffle will have moved on so far that it will be impossible for us to catch up with it on foot.’